Strange Lanes
by Zilindico
Summary: Jane has a weird and sensuous dream about Daria that causes her to question her feelings and friendship. Was it just some dream, or is there something deeper? All editing and parts up and completed.
1. Part 1

_Description: Jane has a weird, erotic dream about Daria, and thus starts to question herself, wondering just how to go about figuring herself out. Not a "cry for help," mega-fluff, or hot f/f fic, just real "Daria." _

AN: This fic was inspired by a really bizarre dream I had about Daria and Jane that played out like a real "Daria" episode and left me going "Whoa" when I woke up. The other inspiration was the fact that almost every single Jane/Daria fic out there was an "oh, no one will accept me/us," "listen to me talk Shakespearean about my love," or "hands went up skirts" fic, which really pissed me off because it seemed more like author-channeled angst than real "Daria," which is what I want to read if I'm going to read fan fiction at all. So, yes, hopefully people enjoy this fic for its attempt to be completely within character. Lastly, this is probably set during the first summer after IICY, there's musical transitions because I prefer an episode format over a simple prose story, and I don't own "Daria" because I'm a poor college student. =P

* * *

Dreaming…

_Hm, my name is Jane and I am dreaming, and I know this for certain because normally I wouldn't be laying naked in bed, unless it was really damn hot out._ poke _And that was a real interesting poke._

Although not exactly moving, Jane could feel a hand slowly trailing up her leg, sensuous to the touch and very gentle. Moving up, grazing all the right places, making her smile and go "mmm," as if to say "Thank you, sir, may I have another, sir?" A light kiss on her belly, then working up, until finally moving towards her lips and-- 

"Daria!?"  
  
"Whoa, I'm awake!" Jane looked like the perfect model for a Fashion Club "fashion don't" poster, her hair in a bizarre, twisted formation that could only come from bedhead. Her eyes remained wide as she stared blankly in front of her, trying to comprehend what the hell just happened. 

_Okay, please tell me I was not just naked in a dream with Daria, probably doing various things with Daria, and actually enjoying myself before reality crashed like a bird into a window when I noticed it was her and realized it shouldn't've been her._

That wasn't helping. "Just a dream, it was just a dream." 

She glanced down and noticed her panties were wet, causing her to quickly cover herself with her hands and exclaim, "Eep!"

* * *

Transition to _Flying Teapot_ by Yoko Kanno, leading into the scene  
_Remember / Surrender / There's nothing you can do / 'Cause love's such a joke / Like a little jack in the box, you know / A little jack in the box_

* * *

Outside the Lane house, Daria stood in front of the door while waiting for Jane to open it. The artist looked like someone had left ice cubes in her unmentionables for several days while taking blackmail pictures to pass around Lawndale; this basically translated to no hair coordination, very wrinkled clothes, and a face like the end of a marathon. "Hey, Daria, what are you doing here?" 

Daria gave her blank expression. "Um, usually I come over around this time. I didn't expect you to be in the middle of private business when I got here, though." 

Jane blushed, considering what her friend was implying and considering what _really_ had been going through her mind, albeit against her will. "Heh, no, I wasn't doing anything like that, Daria. I'd lock the doors ahead of time." 

Daria let herself in. "Then what happened? Rough night last night?" 

Jane finally managed her own usual face. "You have no idea." 

They started heading to the stairs until Trent started to pass them. "Hey Daria," he said in his usual tone. 

"Hey Trent." 

He then noticed Jane's completely disheveled look, made a face of mild surprise, and asked, "Whoa, what happened to you?" 

Not breaking her façade, she told him, "Cat fighting in bed." 

A few beats of silence. "That just sounds wrong." Another beat. "I think I got a new song to write out, see you two later." 

Trent went off to do whatever it is that he does, while the girls went up to Jane's room for their usual thing. About ten minutes passed of Daria doing her writing on the bed while Jane painted, before the artist finally cracked and asked, "Hey Daria, do you put any stock in dreams?" 

"Not unless the interest rates improve." 

She looked at the writer, little hints of the dream returning to her mind. "So you don't believe in dreams being a window to the soul, expressing sub-conscious desires, prognosticating, or any of that other fancy mumbo-jumbo?" 

Daria shared a blank expression with her. "You're not dreaming about ducks taking over the world again, are you?" 

Shaking her head, Jane came over to the bed and sat on the edge. "Daria, this is serious. I, um," She started to blush and become nervous, looking away while rubbing the back of her neck. "I had a really weird dream last night. Like, the weirdest." 

Daria set down her notebook and scooted over towards her friend. "I told you not to eat that pie, but you wouldn't listen." She took a breath and released it. "So tell me, what was this apocalyptic vision of yours?" 

The rouge in Jane's cheeks started to make her face resemble a tomato. "Well… it was… sexual." 

"Our little girl is growing up." 

"Daria, it was about… you." 

Not even Daria could keep a straight face at that remark, her eyes going wide for a brief instant before mostly returning to normal. She forced herself not to back away from her old friend, but this sudden revelation made her feel just a bit uncomfortable. "Is there something you want to tell me, or should I get the tranquilizers?" 

Now Jane was really starting to feel bad, because despite the emotionless aura her friend always wore, she could tell when something broke through that shell and made a tiny crack. "Now wait, Daria, don't start freaking out. It was just a dream." 

"Yeah, and clothes are only formalities." 

Jane got up and started pacing around, keeping her eye mostly on Daria. "I'm serious! It's not like I'm secretly lusting after you or feeling myself up at night thinking of you!" 

This whole topic was making Daria self-conscious and rather awkward. "Listen, you wanted a dream interpretation, so here it is: a) electrical impulses in your brain conspired together to create an image in your head and it decided to be you and me doing certain things; b) you were feeling a little turned on last night and your brain compensated by giving you someone, anyone, to sleep with, and my head popped onto the body; or c) you've secretly wanted me all along and we just never noticed." 

Jane stood open-mouthed with a shocked expression on her face. She didn't know how to feel about this, especially when she had tried not to think about the dream at all after it happened, but when Daria threw back an analysis like that, well… "What would be _your_ guess?" 

Daria stood up, hooking her backpack over her shoulder. "I choose d) so confusing that you need time to think about it on your own without me as a distraction." 

She walked out of the bedroom, Jane trying to call after her, but she didn't wait up. Trent stood at the bottom of the stairs, asking the writer, "What's all that about?" 

"Jane's thinking about bed-top cat-fighting, and I'm not talking the kind with felines or soap opera stars." 

Trent made his deep thinking face while Daria showed herself out.

* * *

Transition to _All The Things She Said_ by Tatu, leading into the scene  
_I keep closing my eyes, but I can't block you out / Wanna fly to a place where it's just you and me / Nobody else, so we can be free / Nobody else, so we can be free / All the things she said / All the things she said /Running through my head / Running through my head_

* * *

Jane paced around her bedroom, her nervous and upset disposition obvious by the way she wrings her hands and chews her lip. She was mad at herself, mad at Daria, but mostly mad at herself. 

What the hell was she thinking by just going and telling Daria all that? She might as well have said, "Hey Daria, I had lesbian fantasies about you last night, wanna reenact them?" She smacked herself in the head several times before collapsing entirely on her bed. Damn it; who would've thought one weird, little dream could throw the whole world out of balance? 

Deep sigh; so what now? What the hell was wrong with her? Was she really lusting after her best friend's private juice maker, or was this all a horrible mistake from some sort of artistic dream? She barely ever thought about the possibility of her not liking only guys, as what was the point? Not like she was on the lookout for the next potential boy toy at the moment, but trying to hook up with Daria wasn't exactly a priority in her mind, either. Was it a possibility, though? Can't say she didn't enjoy the dream, but then, she didn't know from the start that it was Daria, and then maybe it wasn't her until that lover made its way to her face--dreams were like that sometimes. 

Jane rolled over and shoved her face in a pillow, screaming out loud while pounding her bed with her fists. This dream was making her life a living hell, and Lawndale was bad enough without this sexual alienation. Calming down a bit, she glanced over at the phone, thinking of calling Daria, but since she hadn't really formed a solution yet to this problem, a Daria encounter was out of the question. 

The sound of Trent closing his door and walking downstairs caught her attention, so her hurried up and chased him down into the kitchen, where he was sitting at the table, eating a sandwich. They exchanged "yo's" before Jane popped the question, "Trent, do you think I'm gay?" 

"Whoa, I don't like labels." 

Inward sigh. "Okay, do you consider me more likely to go after leaky plumbing or dipsticks?" 

Trent's expression wasn't any different than usual. "Does this have to do with Daria?" 

Jane let her head rest on her folded arms upon the table, her expression turning sorrowful. "I had an erotic dream about her, and now I'm all confused." 

"I don't see what the big deal is." 

"Don't you get it, Trent? I might be really attracted to Daria when all this time I thought I was straight as an arrow. The thought's never even occurred to me to question my sexuality before. Hell, I never even associated the word 'sexuality' with myself. And now this thing with Daria, and I just don't know what to do with myself. I don't wanna drive her away just because I might actually turn out to be attracted to her in small, minute way." 

"Like I said, I don't see what the big deal is. If you like her, then you like her. If you don't, you don't. She's your best friend, she's not gonna run away from you just because you like her more." 

Jane forced a smirk. "You know, somehow that made a bit of sense and made me feel better." 

Trent made his own smirk. "Hey, that's what brothers are for." A few moments passed. "So what are you going to do now?" 

She looked off to the side, her expression turning to melancholy. "I don't know, Trent. I don't know."

* * *

Outro to _Push It_ by Garbage, with images of Jane confused and Daria walking away  
_This is the noise that keeps me awake / My head explodes and my body aches / Push it

* * *

Part 2 of 3 coming soon._


	2. Part 2

Intro to _We Can Work It Out_ by Heather Nova, with images of Jane upset and then talking to Trent, leading into the scene  
_Try to see it my way / Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong / While you see it your way / There's a chance that we might fall apart before too long / We can work it out / We can work it out _

_

* * *

_

We Can Work It Out continues playing in the background while Daria sits uncomfortably by herself in the pizza parlor. Jane was late, and the writer only felt awkward about this because of her behavior lately. Sure, they had been going about their usual get-togethers and everything the same as ever, but… It seemed to Daria as if her best friend was _trying_ to get her attention, and she wasn't sure just yet how to feel about that, no matter how much she thought about it. 

Daria sighed and let her face slump into her crossed arms on the table. She didn't move as Jodie and Mack walked over to the table, having must have seen her as they started leaving. She guessed that Jodie finally exhibited so independence from her parents and got some time for the two of them to get together; whatever. 

Jodie called over, "Hey Daria." 

"Hey Jodie." If the other girl was expecting something other than Daria's usual tone, it didn't show. 

"Waiting for Jane?" 

"Yeah, but it might be someone else smiling at me in that body." 

Obvious confusion on Jodie's part. "Huh? Wha'd'you mean?" 

Yeah, like Jodie was the first person she wanted to discuss her social insecurities with, but considering talking to Jane was out of the question--more or less--it looked like she was the only available substitute. "What would it take for you to not want to be around a friend anymore?" 

The couple sat on the other side of the table, with Jodie commenting, "Um, depends on the situation? Why, did Jane get a boyfriend or something?" 

For whatever reason, a minor anger thought popped out of Daria's mouth: "That's the problem with people, you can only ever think in the norms that society has wrapped around your necks. Any thought regarding the 'uncommon' makes you uncomfortable and escapist." Her little rant done, she felt worse because she might as well have been yelling at herself; she was just as guilty. 

Jodie didn't appear upset, but it was probably because she didn't understand what Daria was talking about, and it showed. 

Daria finally spit out, "Jane might like me. Really like me." 

There was the nervous, awkward expression she expected, the common reaction of considering it out of the ordinary. "I… I don't know what to say. I don't think you should let it interfere with your friendship, though." 

"Easy for you to say." 

Realizing this was going nowhere and Daria wasn't feeling any better, Jodie gestured for Mack to stand up, following behind him while telling the writer, "Sorry I couldn't be of any help." 

"At least you're staying consistent." The comment was a bit cruel, but she wasn't exactly in the mood to curb her language. 

Alone at last, just in time for Jane to come in--which prompted Daria to adopt her "what the hell" look." 

Jane raised an eyebrow. "What?" 

"What happened to _you?_" 

"What are you talking about?" 

"You look like you were mugged and left for pretty by the Fashion Club." 

Jane's effort in appearance was evident: hair probably done up with the fancier shampoos that do the extra volumizing and vitamizing crap, face marked with eye shadow and mascara and whatever else Daria herself never bothered to use, and her red and black outfit was replaced with a smaller, lighter black shirt that hugged her curves more; on the other hand, she still had her earrings in, but those probably couldn't come out, anyway. 

"Um, is that a compliment?" Jane forced a smile, then looked like she felt bad and adopted the "collapsing into crossed arms" posture Daria had moments before. That melancholic look in her eyes was starting to get to the writer, making her turn to stare out the far window. 

Their usual pizza came to the table, causing at least a little break in the stalemate of conversation. They started eating, watching the brief, amusing event of Upchuck running past the pizza place while being chased by several angry young women, then somehow found themselves back in that little dip with only the matter at hand on both their minds. Daria wanted this over with as soon as possible in order to get back to their regular, old lives, even if she didn't quite know the words. 

She finally took a breath and asked, "So when are you going to get over this?" 

Jane looked up. "Wha'd'ya mean?" 

"This dream of yours. First you say it's a dream, then you start acting like this is what you've wanted all your life, as if we're a couple and I'm the only one in denial here." 

The artist's face turned more red than the rouge on her cheeks, but it was a combination of embarrassment and anger. "Hey, who the hell are you to tell me what I think and feel!? It's not like you've ever had a boyfriend other than Tom, and I had to soften him up for you!" 

That did it. "Listen, bitch, this isn't about me, this is about you obsessing over a random thought that lodged itself into your love-hungry brain, and now you can't get over it because you've nothing else better to do with your life. You want to believe that you can make everything happy in your life by just conforming with your dreams; well it doesn't work that way." 

She dropped her money on the table for the pizza before walking quickly out the door, leaving the artist alone to steam and shout, "Fine, be that way!" 

And then Jane was alone, no one understanding, not even herself, so she collapsed into her arms and tried not to cry.

* * *

Transition to _Simple And Clean_ by Utada Hikaru  
_When you walk away / You don't hear me say / Please, oh baby, don't go / Simple and clean is the way that you're making me feel tonight / It's hard to let go_

* * *

Daria comes home and walks inside. Everything's quiet except for Helen's pacing around and yelling on the phone. She started moving towards the stairs when she caught her mother stomping into the living room while turning off her phone. Daria glanced around a bit for a moment, weighing her options, then finally decided to give in. 

"Mom?" 

"Yes dear?" 

"Do you think we can have a talk?" 

"Why of course, dear, what's the matter?" 

They proceeded to sit next to each other on the two separate couches, Helen open, Daria as herself. 

"Um…" The writer's eyes darted around again, not sure how to go about this but knowing she was already stuck with her decision. "I need to ask you about sexuality." 

Helen's expression quickly changed to one of strong awkwardness and general anxiety, her cheeks a hot red as she took a turn at staring at the ground and away. "Well, I, uh, what brings this up?" 

Daria was a bit surprised at this reaction. "What's the matter?" 

"Well, you know, you're my daughter and I'm your mother, plus I don't know how much you know, I mean you're growing up and all, but still, I, uh…" They finally resumed staring at each other, though now Helen was clearly anxious and Daria was the same as ever. "D--" 

"No, we don't need to have that talk. No, I never did anything with Tom. And no, you don't need to know how I learned most things on my own." 

"Well I guess that's one less awkward question. So then what's your problem?" 

"What if I told you Jane was a lesbian?" 

"Well, I guess I'd tell you to be more careful around her, be more conscious of the way you two act, otherwise, um, I wouldn't tell you to stop being friends with her, if that's what you're asking." 

"What if I told you _I_ was a lesbian?" 

The mutual blank stare again, this time Helen's cheeks were twice as red. "D--" 

"It was a rhetorical question. I'm not. I just want to understand what your views on different than usual sexualities are." 

"This is about Jane, isn't it?" 

"I'd give you a prize, but I forgot the pizza." 

"Daria, I can't tell you how to feel, but if you wanted to know exactly how I felt on the subject, well, I wouldn't be able to say. You have to remember that when I was growing up, anything other than clear-cut male and female relationships were out of the question, it just didn't happen. And now as you're growing up, everyone's trying to find their own bit of happiness and rights to exist. I want to tell you to give this new Jane a chance because she's still mostly the same Jane you've been friends with for so long now, but I can't force you to accept her. You have to make this choice on your own, and whatever you decide, I'll love you just the same." 

Daria frowned. "Why is it always left up to me? I wish life would be a lot less complicated." 

Looking a lot more calm and composed, her mom smiled softly and told her, "I'm guessing Jane's thinking the same thing right now." 

The writer finally looked up, gave a smirk and said, "Thanks, Mom." 

"Any time, Daria." She got up and started to walk away, only stopping when the phone rang. She listened for a moment before heading to the kitchen and shouting, "Are you telling me Tamasaki was mauled by pandas!? I'll have your head for this!" 

Daria left her mom to the struggles of corporate life to head up to her room and lay out on her bed. She stared at the ceiling as usual, until it all started to blur and she had to let herself think. 

_Okay, this is the part where I either admit that I've been a bitch to Jane lately and that I'll live with this delusion of hers, or I'll become too nervous regarding my own sexuality and drive her away forever, thus becoming a wandering hermit with no happiness in life outside of putting idiots in line. …Well, when I put it that way…_

She rolled over and picked up the phone, dialing in Jane's number. A few rings passed before the artist finally picked up. "Hey's" were exchanged; silence then settled in for a couple moments until Daria finally said honestly, "Look, I'm sorry for acting like a jerk earlier. It's just that this change in you has been hard for me to get over, but I promise to make a stronger attempt." Even though she was talking in her usual monotone, Jane could tell Daria was telling the truth. 

"Yeah, well, can't say I haven't been the majority of the problem. I shouldn't have met with you all glitzed up like that, or even tried to make any advances. You're my friend, I know you, you wouldn't be interested. I don't even know if I'm interested." 

"So can we both say we're oversensitive bitches and that we're even?" 

"Done." 

They could practically hear each other's smiles across the phone.

* * *

Outro to _Across The Universe_ by Rufus Wainwright, to images of Daria and Jane yelling, Daria talking to Helen, and Daria smiling on the phone  
_Jai guru deva om / Nothing's gonna change my world / Nothing's gonna change my world _

_

* * *

Part 3 of 3 coming soon._


	3. Part 3

Intro to _Torn_ by Natalie Imbruglia, to images of Daria and Jane staring each other down, then both of them sitting on the bed and staring at each other, leading into the scene

_I'm all out of faith, this is how I feel / I'm cold and I am shamed, lying naked on the floor / Illusion never changed into something real / I'm wide awake and I can see the perfect sky is torn / You're a little late, I'm already torn_

* * *

Daria stands in Jane's room, turned away while covering her chest with her arms and muttering, "I can't believe I let you talk me into this." She happened to be standing with no shirt on, only her bra remaining, and it showed with the redness in her cheeks and her stubbornness to stop concealing herself. 

Jane stood on the other side of the bed, hands on her hips while holding a thick paintbrush, a smile on her face more out of the amusement of the situation than anything else. "Oh come on, it's not like I'm gonna bring out the whips and the dominatrix gear or anything. I'm saving those for your birthday." 

"You don't understand. I'm very uncomfortable with the idea of being naked at all, let alone with anyone else. I try to make those periods last no longer than when I'm showering and during times that I'd rather not discuss with you." 

"Ooo, kinky." The artist laughed. "Daria, it's just body painting, and it's not like I'm asking you to pull down yer panties. I don't think I'm quite ready to see another girl's personal kitty yet, myself. C'mon, it's just me, we're friends." 

"Last I checked, friends didn't usually get naked in front of each other for personal amusement." 

"When was the last time we actually conformed with the rest of the world?" 

An extended silence. "Damn." 

Daria let out a long, deep breath before finally undoing her bra, letting the undergarment drop, and covering herself with her arms as much as she possibly could. _Thank god she's not asking me to take off anything else._

She walked towards the bed, partially scrunched over for no real reason other than maybe concealing herself slightly more. Jane tapped her hand on the plastic cover over the bed in an attempt to make her lay down. Another few moments passed before the writer finally gave in and got on the bed, still covering her breasts. 

With that accomplished, Jane proceeded to turn on that various fans around the room, as well as check the camera and tripod for taking pictures after the painting was done. Daria piped up, "Remind me again why this room needs to be horribly freezing." 

"So the paint dries quicker and isn't running all over the place." 

"Sure, whatever." 

The artist walked around to Daria' right side, dipped her paint brush in the large bucket of blue paint, and said, "You know, you're gonna have to move those arms soon if I'm gonna get anything done here." A sigh. "C'mon, Daria, wha'd'you expect me to do? Start groping you? Hop on top of you and do a jig?" 

"It's not that I'm afraid of you doing anything. You're not exactly the first person on my mind that would commit random sexual acts. It's just that, well, this is me. Self-esteem issues aside, it just doesn't feel right to me to be, well, this… open." 

"Would you feel better if I was naked, too?" 

"That would put me into shock and not help in the least." 

Jane smirked. After another few moments, Daria finally groaned and hesitantly laid her arms to the side. "That's a good girl." 

And she started to paint, using the blue as a base for the rest of what she was going to do. Starting just under the writer's neck, in horizontal lines, then one line down the center and coating her belly and everything to just above her skirt; then after that she finally got to Daria's area of awkwardness, being careful not to take too long or give her any reason to freak out. 

"Are you sure this paint will come off?" 

"Yes, yes." 

"This isn't the edible kind, is it?" 

"Not unless you _want_ me to eat paint chips and go on a hallucinogenic trip." 

They shared a smirk, but it was tense. Daria's breathing was faster than normal, mostly as a result of her anxiety regarding this situation, but it was the same for Jane. It was a mutual tension, though with different reasons behind the anxiety. 

With the base done, Jane switched to smaller brushes and a variety of colors, making on Daria's upper chest the typical heart symbol but with long, white angel wings, plant lines that traveled down and around towards her back, a sun with "s"-like waves coming off it on her belly button, and of course she eventually decided to paint roses on what could be punned as the "peak" of Daria's physical awkwardness. From the combination of cold on bare skin and the touch of the paint brush going back and forth, her body automatically reacted in a way the writer really wished would stop. 

Jane merely smiled and quipped, "Oh look, it's growing." She was referring to the flower, of course, but the joke was too good for her to pass up. 

Daria growled, "If I wasn't a nervous wreck right now, I'd hurt you for that." 

The artist laughed loudly. "Hey hey, don't blame me for what your body decides to do. I don't know what's going on in that little monotone mind of yours." 

More little pictures of moons and stars scattered around on Daria's body, until she decided to do one last little artwork, a trio of white lilies on her forehead and both cheeks. This required her to kneel down and stay close to the art in order to make sure it was perfect. 

Daria was feeling a little better now that this project was nearly over and there was no more looking at or touching of her breasts, but Jane seemed more preoccupied now. Her face was almost flustered, red and tired. The breaths she was taking through her nose sounded deafening when this close, the warm air cascading down upon her face. At this proximity and skill of painting, Daria couldn't just ask if something was wrong or if Jane was… thinking again. 

The artist finished both cheeks, then started working on the forehead, leaning right over her. Her eyes continuously darted back and forth between the image and Daria herself. 

_I already know what's going to happen, don't I, Jane?_

And it happened. It was so sudden that neither of them really had time to react. Jane just realized that her eyes were closed and that there was a familiar yet strange feeling occurring to her body. She leapt back as far as she could the moment it struck her: she had kissed Daria. "Oh hell. Oh hell oh hell oh hell." She paced around in a flurry of anxiety and curses at herself. She was a ripe, red tomato that had committed what she felt to be the ultimate sin and betrayal against her best friend. 

After taking a moment to assess the situation, Daria sat up--which required pulling the plastic from her back, an always painful procedure--and said, "Jane, calm down." 

The artist seemed incapable of processing that request. "Are you mad!? This is the absolute worst thing I could've done! I'm a bitch and an idiot and how the hell could I do this!?" 

She tried to ramble on continuously, but stopped once she heard her best friend say, "Jane, does it look like I have out my torch and pitchfork?" 

Jane gave her a look, asking in her low, humorous tone, "You're not planning to jump me and reveal things I shouldn't know, are you?" 

"Please sit down and breathe." 

Deep breathes, just keep breathing… Jane did as she was told. Daria maintained her normal expression and stated. "Now just keep breathing as we discuss this like normal human beings undergoing psychological stress." 

The artist appeared on the verge of tears, a look of sorrow Daria had never seen before on her best friends face. Her head sank low, and her voice came out low, almost raspy: "I'm sorry, Daria. Y' know, the dream made me think, maybe this is why I'm never happy, why none of my relationships work out and all that stuff. You're the only person in my entire life that's ever really fully connected with me. I thought, maybe, this is the way it's supposed to be, maybe the truth behind everything is the fact that I like you as more than a friend. And I thought, hey, you're my friend, you wouldn't hold any weird feelings against me, and maybe you'd be willing to help me figure myself out and prove or disprove this little girl-yearning of mine. But I just got obsessed with the fantasy, couldn't put it out of my head. And now it's a little late to say, hey, I'm kinda stuck with this thinking and I hope you can live with it. Now I've just gone and screwed everything up beyond the point of no return." 

"Jane, I've more or less come to accept the fact that you like me. There's nothing I can do about it short of running like hell, but you're my best friend and I'm not going to abandon you over a crush. While I'd rather not be a testing pad again for your experiments in physical contact, I'll still be here for you, and that's a promise." 

Jane finally lifted her head, tears starting to fall as she smiled softly and asked, "You really mean that?" 

Daria did her trademark smirk. "Hey, what are friends for?" 

They both leaned towards each other and shared a strong, mutual hug. 

"Thanks, Daria. You don't know how much this means to me." 

"I just have one problem." 

"Uh-oh, what's that?" 

"I think I'm rather attached to you in a physical way." 

"The paint's stuck to my clothes, isn't it?" 

"I always knew you were the smart one." 

Trent's voice wandered over from down the hall: "Hey Jane, I need to borrow--" He stepped into Jane's doorway and found Daria rather blue and topless and attached to his sister in a very suggestive way, prompting all of them to scream out loud in surprise and embarrassment.

* * *

Credits roll to _Freakin' Friends_ by Mystic Spiral 

_When the aliens come  
When the death rays hum  
When the bombers bomb  
We'll still be freakin' friends _

When the whip comes down  
When they nuke the town  
When dead clowns can't clown  
We'll still be freakin' friends 

Freakin' friends,  
Freakin' friends,  
Till we come to bad ends,  
We're freakin' friends. 

Freakin' friends,  
Freakin' friends,  
Till we come to bad ends,  
We're freakin' friends. 

When the skeeter bites  
Lightning hits our kites  
When we miss our flights  
We'll still be freakin' friends 

When my number's called  
When my garden's walled  
When my tires are bald  
We'll still be freakin' friends 

Freakin' friends,  
Freakin' friends,  
Till we come to bad ends,  
We're freakin' friends. 

Freakin' friends,  
Freakin' friends,  
Till we come to bad ends,  
We're freakin' friends. 

I was halfway down the plank  
Had a stick against my flank  
Then you pulled up in the Tank  
Rock on... 

When we're parched with drought  
And we can't catch trout  
When my voice gives out (cough)  
We'll still be freakin' friends 

When the razor cuts  
When they torch the huts  
When I hate your guts  
We'll still be freakin' friends 

Freakin' friends,  
Freakin' friends,  
Till we come to bad ends,  
We're freakin' friends. 

Freakin' friends,  
Freakin' friends,  
Till we come to bad ends,  
We're freakin' friends. 

Freakin' friends,  
Freakin' friends,  
Till we come to bad ends,  
We're freakin' friends. 

Freakin' friends,  
Freakin' friends,  
Till we come to bad ends,  
We're freakin' friends.

* * *

Post-AN: Hopefully this story came out as well as I hoped it would. I wanted to create a decent Jane/Daria story with full realism and no OOC, and whether I accomplished that or not, well, that's up to the reviewers to decide. Oh, and since the question of a sequel or "more" is always asked with fan fiction, I'll just say, a sequel isn't in the works, but it's not entirely out of the question if I can come up with a good idea; otherwise, don't hold your breath. Thanks for reading, and please check out my other Daria fan fiction and/or original fiction if you can. =)


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